


Baby, you're on fire.

by Piff



Series: Bye Bye Birdy [12]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, Graphic Description of Wounds, Jack finds trouble, Jack gets a little barbequed, Pitch is unhappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piff/pseuds/Piff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not Canada, this is where Pitch goes to have pina coladas with Satan and gossip on sunchairs. This is the exact opposite of where Jack wanted to go. Little help here?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this warrants a Graphic Violence tag, but Jack gets a bit barbequed and I wanted to go on the safe side.

Jack was nearly flattened under the intense heat as he jumped out of the shadow, a stark contrast to the cool tunnels he’d just left. Retracing his steps only pressed hard rock into his back, the entrance closed. Which was not... good.

“Where the heck am I…?”

This was not Canada. Nowhere near Canada. Canada was covered in a thick layer of beautiful snow and Jack had plans for the most epic Igloo ever. This... was not Canada. 

Leaning heavily onto his beloved staff, Jack peered around at what he thought was tendrils of fog but soon realized it was actually steam. Very hot steam. Do not put your hands in the steam. 

Sticking his fingers in his mouth in an attempt to cool them, Jack avoided the steam the best he could, trying to find a landmark. Something to clue him in on where he was. The dirt under his feet was hot and hard, more like rock than dirt and riddled with cracks. The bigger cracks were where the steam leaked out, so those he knew to avoid also.

Jack could only see ahead or behind by a few yards, which made him nervous, but the ground was tilted and if he got high enough he’d be able to see further. Right? 

Up he went. Slowly. It was slow going under such heat and Jack was quiet certain he was beginning to melt under the pressure, the dirt under his feet burned and forced Jack to take a break by climbing up onto his staff to cool off. 

Even on the crook of his staff Jack couldn’t see far. Vague shapes that were more rocks, clouds of steams, dark cracks in the ground. 

…Jack was in hell. Why wouldn’t Pitch have connections straight to hell? Hell was a terrible, terrifying place! Pitch probably came here to relax! 

Giggling at the mental images of Pitch on a sun chair and gossiping with Satan while drinking pina coladas, Jack kept moving upwards. He didn’t dare ask the Wind for a lift yet with all the steam around, Jack would be cooked!

 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

 

Pitch could have felt bad about it, but when you had a bunch of small girls gathered together in one room to tell scary stories all night, what did you expect? 

It was always wonderful how the fear of one child fed another, and when there were eight of them... heh. Pitch carefully dusted the dreams with his corrupted sand, urging this one on but slowing this one down. It was all in the timing. If one girl woke too soon then all would wake and not be as frightened. Instead, if he could carefully keep all eight on the same pace then the whole group would fall apart instead of merely cracking. 

Wasn’t it brilliant?

Much harder to console and comfort a herd of terrified children than just one, especially if most of them were in a strange house without their parents. 

It was going to be beautiful, a banquet of flavors that he could already begin to taste.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Jack was frozen on top of the large rock, one hand stuffed against his mouth to keep quiet and the other clutching his staff desperately. The rock was burning the skin of Jack’s feet but he didn’t dare move a single inch. His clothing was not much more protection; pieces were starting to flake off and leaving the skin underneath red and tender.

Something was moving down there. Something big. Something hot. Something evil.

He could see the vague shape of it, low to the ground and long, very long. The pieces that came close enough to see through the steam were red and scaly. Jack stopped even breathing as the head passed within a few feet of his rock, thick and blocky and much like the Komodo Dragon’s Jack had seen in one of his books. Except bigger. Much, much bigger. And hotter.

Had it been mentioned it was hot? Jack couldn’t get a snowball to last longer than it took to create. He was covered in sweat; it dripped down his face and hit the rock with wisps of steam. His feet were screaming at him and Jack didn’t dare look to see the full damage.

Once the lizard was past sight and sound, Jack was never going to forget the rasp of claws against hard ground, the boy jumped free of the rock pillar and ran in the opposite direction. He could really, really use some tall, gloomy help right about now!

 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

 

“FIND HIM!” Pitch screamed at the Nightmares, the horses scattering around him to dive headfirst into the closest shadow. 

The slumber party had gone as planned; the dreams carefully nurtured to the perfect moment until all eight girls were howling like banshees, with the added bonus of waking all the other inhabitants in the house. 

Perfection. 

It was only while Pitch laughed his way back to the lair that he realized they had not been the only fear weighing so heavily on his tongue. With distance and time fading the children he could now sense Jack’s. Which meant two things, one - he had been spending far too much time around Jack lately, and two - Jack was –terrified-.

And Pitch hadn’t the faintest idea where Jack was.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

 

So. Hot.

Jack stumbled as the ground seemed to curve out from under his feet, jamming his staff into the ground for balance and trying not to touch any of the rocks nearby. He was no longer sure if the ground was still tilting up as if he was on a hill or mountain, or if he was hallucinating. He had managed to avoid another far too large lizard, but had to admit he was lost. All directions looked the same. Even up and down were getting a little... skewed.

He didn’t like having his back out to the open and crouched near one of the towering rocks jutting out of the ground like broken teeth. Pressing his right arm close to his chest with a hiss, Jack tried to wedge the bottom of his cloak under his feet before taking the chance to look it over. It had gotten caught in a steam vent when Jack had almost fallen earlier, the skin was bubbled and blackened from wrist to elbow and his stomach twisted with the smell of burnt meat. 

He was too dehydrated to cry.

He was too dehydrated to even sweat. 

Jack pressed the sleeve of his other arm against his mouth in an attempt to slow his panting, and to filter the heated air. He was on the lookout for something big and slow, so when something small and fast appeared right beside him it made Jack jerk back against the rock he’d been leaning away from. There was a soft sizzle and Jack threw himself forward with only his good arm to brace on. 

Crouched on hand and knees, Jack’s head hung low as the world spun around him with sharp blasts of pain. Trying to swallow his whimpers Jack forced himself to take tiny breaths so as to both stay conscious and to not aggravate his burning lungs anymore. 

When his eyes were able to focus they zeroed in on the dark hoof only inches away. There was another hoof on his right. Now he could register the soft snorting against the back of his head and the gentle nudges from the Nightmare’s muzzle as it stood over him protectively. 

“Oh... hey. Nice to see you.”

Would have sucked to die all alone. 

And he had a little shade now. That was nice. No less hot but darkness was nice. 

Jack closed his eyes.


	2. Ice Ice baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you heal someone who is dead?

It had taken time to track the Nightmare who had found Jack, and Pitch couldn’t think of a place any worse for a Winter Spirit to be than the haven of the Firedrakes on Mt. Tambora. Not only the Firedrakes, but the whole mountain could erupt into a fountain of lava any moment! It was like walking into a sauna when Pitch stepped out of the rock-shadow.

Turning his attention to the area around him, Pitch scoured for his lost companion anxiously. Difficult to see through all the steam clouds but it wasn’t hard to pinpoint where his Nightmare was and aim for that, moving quickly. To find the coal black Nightmare standing braced over the body of a pale Winter Sprite and facing down a gigantic Firedrake with a snarl was... surreal. And pathetic. The entire horse was the size of the lizards head with its scales gleaming like rubies and eyes full of fire.

Each ponderous step caused the earth to shake, claws scraping the hard ground as it advanced slowly on the Nightmare and Sprite. It had no need to rush. Why should it? The prey was not fleeing and it was just a dumb beast that had no concept of bad dreams. It merely licked the scent of blood from the air with a long, forked tongue. Blood and meat.

Pitch drew his scythe. 

 

* * * * * * * * * * 

 

Pitch was forced to use corrupted dream-sand on Jack; he had no other way to keep the boy under long enough to deal with his injuries. Trying to keep a screaming, flailing boy still to clean and bandage severe burns was not... easy. He tried very hard to keep the dreams from getting too horrific but he could only hope for the best with the lesser of two evils.

Unwrapping the singed cloak from Jack’s injured arm was a task of patience, steady hands, and a strong stomach to tease the fabric away from the flesh without taking too much with it.

Jack had had small hurts before, he was a reckless child who did many stupid things so was always injured in some way or another. But those were either small enough to be ignored or covered with a light bandage until it vanished. Easily taken care of.

This... this was not... this was nothing Pitch had had to deal with before on anyone. Jack’s arm was black, the skin cracking even with Pitch gentle as he could be. It split to reveal dark flesh underneath, even pale white bone. His arm had been cooked. It was enough for even the Nightmare King to grow nauseas when face with such... 

Jack’s other arm was better, the palm red and raw as hamburger but undeniably better. His feet were in the same condition once cleaned, and that had been a chore all on its own. But Jack was not human. Human-based medicine was useless.

His Sprite was broken and Pitch didn’t know how to fix him.

But he would try. Jack had been hurt because of him, his tunnels. And while Pitch might hate to admit it he was very fond of the insolent, cheeky, brat with a fondness for pranks. Who else would be so insistent on spending time around the Nightmare King?

 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

 

Pitch was out of ideas, Jack’s injuries were not getting any better and in fact, they seemed to be getting worse. The boy burned with fever and unconscious without the help of the corrupted sand. On one hand that was good, Pitch hated to use it. But on the other...

He chewed on a knuckle and tried to think. Ointments were useless. Bandages just stuck to the burnt flesh. But…Jack Frost was a Winter Spirit, born of the snow and ice. It was reasonable to think that was a helpful hint on how to heal a damaged Sprite, wasn’t it?

He worked quickly. A room near that of his beloved library was linked to the bone-chilling land of Antarctica and the door left wide open. Snow hurled itself inside with the help of Jack’s wind, ice and frost curled all over the walls within moments. 

The Wind was as usual remarkably sentient and knew not to blow too hard around Pitch as he carried Jack into the newly remodeled room. Snow heaped in the center of the room made up a bed and he nestled the boy into it with the care of a baby bird.

Snow and ice to heal a Winter Spirit. 

It could work. Should work.

Pitch wondered if it would have been easier if the Firedrake had just bitten off the arm. Perhaps Pitch should just cut the whole thing off, being not just burned but seared to the bone. 

He couldn’t imagine Jack with only one arm.

The room was so cold, Pitch’s breath made soft puffs in the air as he sat on the edge of the snow-nest. Instead of covering Jack with a blanket he allowed snow to dust around him instead. Even nudged a few clumps specifically around the blackened arm. He refused to leave the Sprite while injured, anything could happen if stumbled across while so helpless. Pitch didn't even need a book to keep himself amused in the empty cave of a room, his full attention was fixed upon the broken boy he was trying to heal.


	3. There goes my Baby

* * * * * * * * * * *

Pitch fussed over him, straightening the hood of Jack’s new sweat-jacket. Jack had yet to notice that the soft white hood had a pair of polar-bear ears attached. It was going to be so amusing when he did.

“I’m fine Pitch! Can I go now?”

“Let me see your arm first, and then you can go.”

Rolling his eyes in a way that his entire body moved, Jack pushed up the sleeve of the hoody for Pitch to inspect the new skin.

It was much better looking than it had mere months ago, almost as if it had never happened. The skin clear and unbroken by the smallest scar. Pitch made Jack flex each finger and swivel his wrist and bend the elbow before he was satisfied. “Alright... Make sure to be back before dark! And no moving with the sun so that it is never night. I want you –here- before it is dark-here-. Understood?”

“Perfectly, you worrywart.”

Neither mentioned that underneath the sass and nagging the air was tense with anxiety. This was the first time Jack would leave the lair on his own since the Firedrakes, and both were a little nervous. But Jack had his new bodyguard stashed in his pocket and all would be fine.

All would be fine.

Jack jumped up into the grasp of the Wind, level with Pitch’s head and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be back before Midnight with all sorts of tales of my mischief! You’ll see!”

Scoffing but without repressing the small smile, Pitch watched him leave.

…wait.

“I said before dark! Not midnight!” But it was too late, Jack was gone and there was only laughter echoing in the halls.

Jack would be just fine.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

 

“You are not allowed to feed him sugar.”

Sandy nodded.

“He is not allowed to ice over my throne or globe.”

Sandy nodded.

“It has not happened in years, but if he traps himself in one of the cages free him immediately.”

Sandy squinted up at the dark iron cages above, but nodded.

“Do not let him chip off the cast; it will not heal if he keeps poking at it.”

Sandy, and Pitch himself, winced this time. Jack had this horrified fascination with watching the exposed tendons and bones move and it was just too disturbing to watch even if it seemed to be painless.

Pitch drew the boy against him for a hug, combing the pale hair with long grey fingers. “Sanderson will be here until I come back. You will be just fine, he has always liked children and I have known him for years. He will keep you company. All right?”

The sprite fingered the icy cast covering his arm from fingers to elbow, pressing his face into Pitch’s chest with a muttered agreement.

“You will be fine,” Pitch repeated softly. Eyeing the small golden man, “if he looks feverish or at all ill, he is to go to his room for a quiet rest. The snow and ice have been very helpful.”

Jack perked up a little at this, turning around to look at Sandy too. “Hey, we can build an igloo! I had this great idea...” That he’d meant to use before the Firedrakes. Jack shuddered, and almost missed the enthusiastic nodding of Sandy. 

Sandy would be more than glad to help! Snow wasn’t much different from playing with wet sand. SNOW CASTLES! The little man rubbed his hands together, then held one out for Jack to take. They had better get cracking!

Reluctantly, knowing Pitch had duties he must attend to after ignoring them so long, Jack peeled himself off of Pitch and took Sandy’s tiny hand. Looking back, “you’ll be back before dawn?”

“Before dawn, I promise.”

Sandy tugged the boy away, careful to not jostle his other arm bound in the black sling and thick icy cast. He’d been told the story of how it came about, and was suitably impressed by how much Pitch cared for the Sprite. And while curious, this was not the night to ask questions.

Instead he used his sand pictures to ask Jack what sort of igloo he wanted to try. Oooo if they got the snow really good and hard, they could build a double storied igloo! Maybe even a full house! The sky was the limit!

Jack laughed led the way to his bedroom and Antarctica, starting to feel a little cheerful about it. Though he might have looked back once or twice. 

Pitch continued to stand there as the pair left his view, hesitating. But he really must see to his work. It had been too long neglected and the Nightmares were starting to run wild. One last look at where Jack had left and Pitch stepped into the shadows.

 

* * * * * * * * * * 

 

It had been a day, a very long day with Jack in his feverish coma before Pitch got proof the snow and ice was truly helping. The blackened skin started to flake off and leave behind newer, healed patches. The exposed flesh started to do the same, and was growing back over the missing pieces. It was going to look quite horrific for some time still, Jack would not be able to use his fingers until the muscle had grown back, but it WAS healing.

Jack was okay. 

Pitch had nearly been driven to his wits end and was in the midst of seriously thinking he might have to get help from the thrice-damned Rabbit, Moon help him. He was almost to the point of doing so, to grit his teeth and bend his pride to ask the Pooka who would never ever let him forget it. Who might even reject the plea because Pitch was too evil to ever ask for help for someone else. That anyone who hung around Pitch Black deserved to be hurt. If it wasn’t for that the Pooka was supposed to be a great healer...

But Pitch would have asked. For Jack.

His salvation came in the form of Jack as he slowly woke up; an entire day after the snow began the healing process. First moving his fingers to curl them around his beloved staff Pitch kept within his reach, then pale blue eyes slowly opening to look up at the Nightmare King. “…hey.”

“How are you feeling Jack?” A hand on Jack’s chest kept the boy from moving, not that he made the attempt.

“Like I went head to head with Indy... in July.”

Pitch had no idea who that meant, but brushed it aside. “I’m glad to see you awake, I was starting to worry. But I must insist that you rest, you are still healing. “Pulling his hand away from pinning Jack down, he was surprised to have his sleeve latched onto, the staff set aside.

“Don’t leave!” 

“I was not planning to.” Pitch frowned at the panic he saw in Jack’s eyes, still heavy with exhaustion but wide with fear. It was not hard to guess why. 

“I am not leaving you alone Jack. Merely adjusting myself, calm down.” To prove his intentions, Pitch shifted around until he could lie down beside the Sprite, using the gently sloped edge of the nest as a pillow. “Sleep Jack, I’ll be here when you wake.”

The heavy taste of vanilla on his tongue slowly eased as Jack fought sleep to watch Pitch instead. Fully believing he’d been about to die, burned to death in the most hellish place possible with no one to care; Jack’s fear of being left all alone was once again understandable. Pitch would give him time. 

He curled around the boy like a lanky limbed cat; occasionally batting the snow away from his face and watching as Jack eventually lost the battle and drifted off into a natural sleep. He’d stay right where he was until Jack woke again.

* * * * * * * * * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that didn't confuse all of you, it refused to be written in any way but backwards. Yay?

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I found the most adorable Jack cos-player in EXISTENCE on the Imgur website - http://imgur.com/a/jFMAT  
> I just want to lock him in a box and keep forever.
> 
> Second, I went with a more lizardy Firedrake than the traditional dragon, because Komodos are really, really scary without needing wings.
> 
> Thirdly, the pit of Second Guessing -sucks- but I'm building a ladder to get back out. I honestly can't decide if I like this or dislike this or what. (Anyone out there want to be a beta reader?)


End file.
